The troubles of fixing my hair.

Okay, so here's confirmation that girls do not always mean well when they compliment your looks: they always tell me, "Oh, Sarah, I loooooove your hair!"

Ha! Ha! Hahahahaha! Like hell you do! My untamable rat's nest?! You want to trade?!?!

The other day, my hair was fairly manageable, but still some guy I know asked me, "So, Sarah, why don't you, like, straighten your hair? Because, it's like," and then he made the poofy-hair gesture with his hands.

I wanted to strangle him.  But I didn't. Because that's illegal.  And because I was sitting in the back of the car and he was in the front passenger seat. Hahahaha. :<

Anywaaaay, here's why I don't straighten my hair often:
becauseittakeslikeahundredgajillionhourstodoitandthenforawholefrickenweekmyhairislikenooooooihateyouandthenmydadislikenoooooihateyouandyourehairlookssounnaturalwhenyoudothatsoiforbidyoutodoitandtheneveryoneislikewoooooahsarahwhydyoustraightenyourhairareyoutryingtoimpressaguyandmeanwhilemyhairisslowlygoinglikemuahahahahahaimslowlypoofingbackupbythetimethispartyishalfwaythroughitllbebacktonormalandyoucantdoanythingaboutitohbutifidontpoofbackupthatsbecauseidecidedtobecomesuperoilyinsteadbecauseididntuseuptheproductsuputinsothaturhairdoesntburnbecauseofthisohandthatmeansthatyourhairisgoingtobeheeeeeckuhfrizzymuahahahahhahahahahaha!

Despite all the consequences, I straightened my hair the other day and it was quite a nice improvement! (So even though I wanted to strangle you, Guy I Know, what you said was true).  Today, I straightened my hair and curled it for the party tonight! :D

It took about TWO AND A HALF HOURS.

Here's the process. Thanks, Becca-unni, for taming my lion's mane!

And the final result:

It looks much better from the back. But I'm not sure whether that was worth the 2.5 hours of sleep I could have gotten.  Not to mention the pain of having my hair yanked every which way. :<

So now y'all know! My hair's a beeeetch! What's new, Buenos Aires?

More.

Today was Day 1 (of 2) of the church's Christmas play.  It went all right, even if I failed as a pianist.  One of my best friends sat in the audience, and I realized that if it weren't for her, I wouldn't have anyone to wave or smile to.  Unless you count the back wall.

What a sad existence I have. :<

I finally (kinda) addressed the Private Issue That I've Been Avoiding That I Talked About In My Last Post.  In a long message on Skype while he wasn't online.  And then I logged off immediately so that I didn't have to talk to him. Heh.

But for some reason, I read my depressing posts and go all Honey and Clover on myself, shouting "YOUTH!!!!" in my brain and whatnot.  This weird angsty stuff, my need to figure out what it is I want to do in life, feeling inferior to others in matters that shouldn't even matter, being in a constant argument with my parents, being (somewhat) related in political affairs that are waaaaay over my head, getting involved in drama between friends, losing some and making others... It's like I'm part of an over-the-top manga written by an inexperienced mangaka.  It's got so many elements to it, but then again that screams "YOUTH!!!" too.

Oh, for Pete's sake, the song I'm listening to ("Northern Downpour" by Panic at the Disco) practically screams "YOUTH!!!!" too. Why, Sarah, why? Naze? B8

Haha, well angst-sy youth and other unhappy sentiments aside, I've decided I want to sing an upbeat Japanese song for the talent show, with some of my friends as back-up dancers.  Partially because I think it'll be fun, but mostly because I probably won't be returning for senior year.  I'd be officially dropping out of the race for valedictorian, so I might as well go out with a bang.

I was thinking something like this song by Suga Shikao.

Or "Gogo no Parade," also by Suga Shikao. They sound really fun, and the back-up dancing is so silly, I can't help but laugh.  I hope my friends will take to it as well when I propose it to them. Although, considering most of them are even shyer than I am, I doubt it. (-____-)

I'm going to finish watching the anime I was watchin' just now.  It is 1:09 AM.

On the Seventeenth of December, Reality threw to me...

1. I finished my finals on Monday and Tuesday (that went... ok).
2. I helped my sister finish her final art projects Wednesday and Thursday.
3. I didn't go to the end-of-the-semester assembly at school today (and thus was unable to give my friends their presents).
4. I completely avoided my problems.
5. I went to the church play dress-rehearsal, and my scene was the only one that was decidedly bad.
6. I've fought with at least one of my parents since Thanksgiving. Tonight, I shouted at both of them.
7. I watched the pilot episode of Thirtysomething just now. My heart is touched to figurative tears, and I'm not even married.

It's been a really emotional week. There are items that ought to be added to that list, but they infringe on the privacy of rather sentimental individuals.

Merry Christmas, everyone.  It's 2:05 in the morning.

Crocheting Wristbands.

I have pictures to share of the wristbands I've been making lately, and of me celebrating my currently tame hair :D

Not the best, but decent. Taken with a mirror to show the back stripe is yellow.

My favorite! Girly with lots of happy, fun colors :P

A weird.. finger thing I made.

I was experimenting, okay? (twss)

This monster was made of two strands of yarn, crocheted together.

Very thick, very big, and very warm. (twss!!!)

These ones were made a little too long, so I pulled them over the palms of my hands.

I'm thinking about making a second version of the black-with-red-stripes one.

Extend it to just above the elbow and make a type of gauntlet.
Would be fun >:D

But a lot of yarn and time -___-

 

So this little creeper is the first time I've crocheted with so many stripes

(6 around the whole wrist)

So it's really messy and I don't really like it.

My sister says it's cool because of the colors, but green and yellow are the school colors of this other high school in my city, so I can't ever wear this thing to school.

Oh hair, I love you so much today!

lol

I added Japanese character into my keyboard, and was messing around with it.
So I was writing in English with the hiragana translator, and when translated back into english, it goes like this:

"I press the posthumous edition hair ratio m st no why? Meaning the first draft. . . A sub-s r ksword tail cent nitrous ふ s, g phosphorus in dark blue paper to t for rth Enwo Vu 's to. R centふ first draft d, r in tin g Efi rst and near it said all yen Wa ys t cut-off there that t I s teeth? Wed get back thmy s lf s fitting variants ぢ meaning m, g r cent duty near the city s ふphosphorus, ly One E l drawings or Ousset all meaning ふ mply city."

The Fate Book of Japanese Poems

I stopped by the library Monday and checked out one of my personal favorites, the Anthology of Modern Japanese Poetry (1972).  My friend decided to act out a remix of fate and randomly opened the pages of the book, claiming the poems on the page she opened to were supposed to say something about the future of someone.

Here are the fates of those whose futures she dared to peer into:

Me: "The Hospital" and "Kiss" (I burst out laughing), both by Shuntaro Tanikawa

The Hospital

Blue sky and sun are dissolved in stained creosote water,
in dark corridors eroded emotions accumulate rather than science.

Bright-colored suits are powerless in front of X rays.
Even in white clothes there is no consolation.

When patients
into the bottoms of test tubes of colored glass
timidly confine their own being
white physicians
becoming cool and accurate machines
handle cool and accurate machines.

Inside the several kinds of reverberations I do not hear a human voice.
In here everything is materialism.

The hospital is the same as a modern city without secrets.

What a dreary life lays ahead for me.  Unless I do as I plan and steer clear of the medical field.

For Andrew C-H, Sandra drew a pretty awesome tanka poem by Yaichi Aizu.  I think it's very philosophical battle manga-esque.

I stand as though
only I am existing
in heaven and earth--
at this solitarinesss,
Kannon, you are smiling.

One of the last fates Sandy drew was for my classmate Xe.  You got to feel bad for her:

A Camel, by Saisei Muro

In thin shade
a camel that is fastened,
like an aged man,
mumbling and mumbling, is eating things all day long.
His tent is like a sky with snow,
hanging grey and dismal.
Without speaking the camel
keeps moving his mouth all day.

Well, at least she didn't get On Suicide by Shiro Murano. XD

For herself, Sandra drew a haiku by Kyoshi Takahama. I'll end with it.

A white peony
it is called-- but even so,
a faint redness.

Day after Thanksgiving

I know this is supposed to be when everyone goes shopping for crazily low prices to buy a huge TV, but this year I just don't feel like buying anything. I think my favorite part of this year's Thanksgiving holiday is being able to wake up at 11:30 on Friday morning, grab a plate of leftovers, watch the last leaves fall outside my window, and drink the last bottle of apple cider like Captain Jack Sparrow...

Oh yes, that is indeed what I am doing right now. And a bonus: my family is still asleep.
I love it when I'm the only person awake in the house.  I also love it when I'm the only person in the house, and everyone else is at school, or work, or out shopping, or doing God knows what while I sit in my room, finally able to relax.  I speak like I come from a large family, although I really don't.  I just come from a really annoying one. >.<

Well, there was this awesome dream I just woke up from that I wanted to share, but even as I type most of it escapes my memory.  There are only two parts I remember clearly, and they are so obscure that I don't feel like trying to make sense of it for you.  So farewell for now; I shall leave you to your conundrums.

Happy shopping!

Diablo & Stuff

I used to own the game back in 2001 when I lived in the Philippines, but haven't played it since.  A few weeks ago, I remembered all about it (and craved a computer game) so I asked some of my dude-friends for a version of Diablo II and what do you know, I'm addicted. So are many of my dudette-friends (CoughCoughEmilyAndBeccaCoughCough).  Becca-unni is even drawing me as my favorite character, the Amazon.  Aren't I so adorable? >:D

That said, I must admit I get most of my XP from the guys. And they gave me all this really awesome armor and weaponry and stuff.  And they gave me so many tips to be better at the game.  So... thank you, guys! You're so awesome!

That said, I guess the biggest news I have today is the Thanksgiving dinner at my church.  I was so excited this whole week because some of my friends were finally able to go, and for once I gathered enough courage to be able to speak up when talking to other people.  But I guess my enthusiasm backfired, because some people thought I was flirting with my classmates so my mom got mad at me.

I suppose the misunderstanding results from the fact that I am a completely different person when I'm not with my friends.  At church, I clam up and stop talking because I really don't know how to really "connect" with anyone there.  It's like there's this plastic wrap around me that prevents me from making true friends there, or even just having a normal conversation.  What kind of role am I supposed to play there?  I want to play with the worship team, but I lack experience playing in any other condition besides solo performance and my voice is nothing compared to the other girls'.  I want to be more active in youth group, but school always gets in the way so I can't attend regularly... and anyway, it would seem that my lifestyle is so different than the other youth that we don't have anything in common that we can speak passionately about (somehow, all the conversations end with "Wow, Sarah, you're so smart!" which I really don't have a reply to, seeing how it's not really true).  I want to discuss lessons in detailduring Bible study, but in youth group nobody else does and in adult groups I just feel too young to give any meaningful advice.  I have so much advice when it comes to conducting in depth analysis of the Bible, or the organization of church events, but I know it's not my place to say anything.  I'm probably putting myself in this prison, but this is pretty much why I just sit at the piano and play all day long, without talking to anyone and always just waiting to go back home.

Everywhere else, however, I'm the loudest person in the group.  I shout, I run, I jump, I punch, I laugh hysterically-- simply put, I'm a maniac.  And its my friends who let me be that way; they endow me with bursts of energy and confidence, so much that I honestly stop caring about what other people think. I hate being some quiet, polite doll who's expected to just play piano, get good grades, and be some perfect freak that couldn't possibly exist anywhere.  Don't get me wrong, I love to play the piano, and I love getting good grades, and it's not like I want to cuss out every single person I meet, but I just really, really, really, really, really want to start being myself.  I'm not meek! I'm not smart! I'm stupid, and I humiliate myself all the time, but I'm loud and I just love to have fun!

Phew. Got that off my chest.  But I didn't really make my point, which is: sure, it's disappointing that some of my brothers and sisters in church would come to the conclusion that I'm some flirty little girl simply because I acted differently today, but in the end, I really don't give a hoot.  I had so much fun today, and I can't wait to hang with my friends again. I'm not mad, since it's really just a misunderstanding on their part.  Although I just might have ran around a little too much, looking for someone who I wanted to introduce my friends to.

Watching the Matrix 3 and the latest episode of Community at my house afterwards was hilarious though. Really an awesome first-time for my family.  I hope I can hold a Christmas party this year :P

Tips for all-nighters

Tonight I am pulling another all-nighter, so the fact that I am blogging instead of fervently finishing my history packet shouldn't phase you.  After all, I am Sarah.

Lately I've perfected all-nighters to an art (that's how often I do them).  If you need some tips for situation when you're ACTUALLY doing your homework (not foolishly watching Personal Taste on a Sunday night, like a certain someone I happen to know a week or two ago), then you might find it helpful to take a gahander at what I do:

1. Blast music in your room (this may be a problem if your parents won't let you, but mine don't have regular sleeping hours anyway so it's all cool).  For me, I choose from three different playlists: up until about six months ago, it was indie, heavy metal, and things like that.  Franz Ferdinand truly became my best friend. Then for a few months it was all Asian music. Kpop, Jrock, you name it.  Here's a few songs that I have on that playlist:

Alone - The Outsiders

Sangatsu Kokonoka - Remioromen

Sakasama Bridge - Suneohair

1 Minute 1 Second - Epik High

Stand by Me - Shinee

Tsuki to Knife - Suga Shikao

But after a while those songs got me sleepy (especially Tsuki to Knife.  That song is also my sad and depressing song that I sing whenever I almost have suicidal tendencies), so about two weeks ago.. I switched to classical music! I'm a huge junkie because I play the piano, but actually blasting The Marriage of Figaro and full volume in da bomb!  Right now, I'm hooked on this CD that my pastor at church gave me:

I hope I never get sick of it, cuz it is seriously awesome!!!!

2. Work in portions. Half of one assignment, switch to the other, after about three take a break raid the fridge. At midnight I take a fifteen minute break to read a manga update to get my blood flowing (or, if there are no awesome updates, I just look up pictures of Aizen!!! jkjkjkjkjk. I'm not that crazy). I do this at about 2:30 am as well.

3. Tweet to keep yourself awake but STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM FACEBOOK. YOU WILL GET SUCKED IN AND YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE UNTIL IT'S ALREADY 2 IN THE MORNING AND YOU ARE SERIOUSLY CONSIDERING SUICIDE.

4. Before it was Rockstar, and then it was coffee (with lots of cocoa mixed in), but those drinks are SO overrated. (Plus I've developed immunity to them). Right now, I'm all about Jasmine tea. I don't even know if it's caffeinated or not, but a boiling cup of tea sure does taste darn good after a long day at school and a long night ahead of you. So make yourself a pot and join me!

Okay, so I feel like a bit of a traitor wearing another high school's t-shirt, but I don't have any school pride anyway.  And my sister goes to Lincoln so it's all good.  Like my cup? It was hand-made in Japan. :P

Well, darlings, that's all for now. I have more to post (such as my realization that guys are much better friends than most girls, despite the generally negative effect they have on your sense of humor) but this will have to suffice for now.  

Hope the rest of the week pans out swell for y'all! I have at least five tests this week so send me love and brain cells! And tomorrow I'm finding out if I'll be able to go to England as a student ambassador this summer, so wish me luck!

i am a...

$@*%!!#$%#$*^&@&(*(*##$@^$*$^^^&$%^&#&%@^&($%^&.

What am I getting myself into?
Ah, youth.
I just hope--
Ack, let's just go to sleep.
...
....
......
Today is too long already.

Why isn't it Christmas yet?

Lovely song, really.

Okay, I need to finish my homework.  Before I go, the answer to your question is: "No. I have not gone to sleep.  Nor, it seems, shall I until 2 p.m. this afternoon."

Have a nice 3rd of November, minna.  Did you know this is the anniversary of my skipping a grade?  I remember because Mrs. Calderon, my new third grade teacher, wrote November 3, 2003 in cursive on the chalkboard and I couldn't read the month.

Danner.

In my attempt to look cool and alone, I ditched my friend after Spanish class and zoomed by myself to Danner Hall.  Karma works fast, because now I'm just lonely.

There's all these retarded guys around me.  I'll type snippets of their conversations:

"Well, no, I just wanted to get the hot dog before I"

"PIKACHU!"

"Hello? Let me out of here!"
"I got to get out of class man, I'm having a hard time breathing."

"Did you guys leave me here?"

"No, I'm positive it was pandas."

"Fifteen minutes til the bus."

"I used to just use it and crash when I was fifteen, but it's like.."
"I used to play like crazy."

"*singing* You're beautiful!"

"Yu-Gi-Oh!"

"We always argued, he's like--"

"*obnoxious laughter.. like Mojo-Jojo*"

"Hello.  This number can not be reached at this time. If you'd like to--"

"SONOFAB*TCH!"

"That's what she said."

Yeah. Hilarious.  I know.

Well, this morning I found my ideal boyfriend.  He was wearing all black, except for a his red and white wrist bands.  He had perfectly cut black hair, and glasses, and wore a black hat.  And his skin was really pale.  And he was about 5 inches taller than me (>//////<)  He kinda looked like Metis from the web comic Honeydew, except with shorter hair.  And he was simply divine.

Hahaha. I wish I had the guts to talk to those types of people, but unfortunately I'm a wussy who doesn't even have the courage to talk to a former classmate of hers.  O Sarah, why dost thee sucketh so much?

Before I go, my friend's mom asked me a few questions for her Communications Studies class.  I'm feeling bored-- [omigawd, that guy right now looks freaking awesome! I love his style! You, dude, are cool!]-- so I might as well post it.

1. Is it more important to accomplish a goal OR to strive towards a
goal? Accomplishing the goal.  Sure, it's great if you tried, but if you don't reach the goal, then there's no point.  There were no results.

2. Should people cope with situations they find themselves in OR
problem-solve to change their situation? Change your situation.  For example, say you have an abusive drunk for a dad.  Are you going to "cope" with the situation and endure the abuse, or are you going to do something so you can get out of that environment?

3. Is it important to have intermediaries/go-betweens in dealing
with disagreements and confrontations? (Is it better to communicate
directly or indirectly with a person?) It depends on who you have a problem with.  I personally think that if you want to be sincere with me, talk to me directly.  I don't want to go around playing mind-games.  On the other hand, sometimes people get offended when you're being too direct with them.

4. Are some people superior to others (not equals)? If yes, can
social superiority be obtained through birth, age, good deeds,
material achievement, or through some other means? Yes, some people are superior to others.  Mostly because of the way they conduct themselves, but I suppose it can sometimes be something innate.  People like Aizen (I'm assuming they exist).  You know.  They're just born out of our league.

5. How are identities formed--by oneself or with others? Does the
self reside in the individual or in groups to which the individual
belongs? Identities are formed by a mixture.  A little of yourself, and a little from they way you perceive other people, and then you change yourself.  But the self resides in the individual.

6. Is wisdom or vigor (youthful energy/strength) more valued? Uh, WISDOM.  I mean, if you're young but stupid, you're just going to get yourself killed.  If you're wise but old-- hell, you can still enjoy life.

7. Are people in control of the forces of nature? Or, are they
subject to the forces of nature? Or, do they live in harmony with 
forces of nature? Again, a mixture of the two.  Sometimes  you change your surroundings, and sometimes you have to react to what life throws at ya.

8. Do spirits of the dead inhabit and affect the human world? The dead do NOT inhabit and affect the living world. They already went to heaven/hell.

9. Is time scarce or unlimited? Scarce.  Your life clock is ticking, honey.  Get to it.

10. Is time linear or cyclical? Linear.

11. Which is more important, the future, the present or the past, and
why? The present.  It's what you can change.  Sure, the past is what shaped you, and the future is what you look forward to, but what matters is now.

Ciao!

Asian books, depressing thoughts, and classical music

Today I stopped by the library and picked up a copy of Rickshaw Boy by Lau Shaw, which I started reading a few months ago but never finished.  I also picked up a copy of Todd Shimoda's the fourth treasure, which I did finish but I fully intend to re-read this weekend.

The first time around (was it March? April?), I was going through a tumultuous period and this book really helped me to calm down.  It was a bit of a downer, but I suppose that's just what I needed then.  I wouldn't have been able to stand some happy-go-lucky romance flick anyway.

I suppose the fourth treasure is my save-me book, because once again I seek a tranquil refuge within its pages.  The atmosphere in my life is smothering right now, but not quite.  There is an ever present tension, an anxiety that I can never really discuss without sounding like an over-sensitive drama queen.  I feel as though my life is a three-legged table whose third leg was removed: I'm simply watching it, waiting because I know it's about to fall apart.

Obviously, the novel isn't perfect.  There are flaws.  My biggest problem is how the protagonist, Tina, diverges from her path as a good daughter/student and dabbles in a kinky lifestyle. But perhaps that isn't so much a flaw as it is something I would have preferred not to be reminded of.  Falling from the ideal path.  Finding out that what you've been aiming for your entire life isn't what you really want.  That's real.  And that's why I hate it, just a little.  

A little hypocritical, seeing as my favorite part of the book is the fact that Daizen-sensei and Hanako share something beautiful but don't end up together.  I remember reading this line from the novel, and I'll never forget it for the rest of my life.  It's like the author had reached into my mind and scooped out the exact sentiments I was feeling at the time:

"As he walked back to the village, he couldn't stop wondering about the sensei and his student: two people who had it all-- one at the top of his art, the other in the upper strata of society. They had tossed away what they had for something that in the end was nothing."

Of course, the official reviews offer much better insight than I can ever hope to give.  I was just blown away by one I've just read from the LA times, especially by the flaws it points out at the end:

Old-style novelists, move over? Maybe. But in this intriguing product of a new take on the Renaissance art workshop, a few traditional elements of fiction are much missed. The characters are sketchily drawn and without inward development. For all the dovetailing of a strong plot, the reader feels little emotional impact. And, ironically given the novel's subject and metaphor, there is little honor shown to the "ten thousand strokes" of the discipline of writing. The pervasive dispensing with the past perfect tense fosters confusion, and pronouns and modifying phrases are sometimes haphazardly assigned. Technical details? Perhaps. But in the case of language, essence dwells in style and syntax. A bold experiment, especially, needs the guidance of an old master. 

Sometimes I hate it, but in this case I love how professionals can so easily elaborate on what you subconsciously noticed but didn't have the skill to bring to the surface.

Anyway, it's 12:15 am; I woke up from my nap about an hour ago and should probably start on my English homework right about now. (Thankfully, I'll finish that in about an hour, so I can get some more sleep!)  I thought I might end this with something a little less nerdy.  I found this song via my classical music channel on Pandora, and I found it to reflect my mood very well.

"Breathe" by Greg Maroney

 It's more cheerful than I am, and it has this sense of adventure that's definitely lacking from my own life, but can you also detect a bit of melancholy there?  Perhaps I'm crazy, I don't know.  Listening to it again, there's a happy determination and uplifting color to the melody that makes me cross with frustration.  In which case, scratch that it reflect my mood at all.

I'll include a few other songs played on my Pandora that resonated with me while typing this blog post:
Schumann's "Impromptu for Piano in A Flat Major, D. 899/4 (Op. 90/4)"
Chopin's "Fantasie Impromptu in C Sharp Minor, Op. 96 CT. 46"

Seeing as I listed all classical music, perhaps I wasn't successful in providing something a little less nerdy, but I think these are all very beautiful pieces and you should listen to them for the sake of listening to them.

Now my sister has a bowl of instant ramen waiting for me, so I will depart.  Adieu, minna-chan!  Dulces sueños!

Skewer the Potato on the Bed of Nails

One step closer to fame

Last night, I noticed I had about 20 likes total on my "Discus Comment" account, which made me happy because it was almost the same as the number of comments I made.

Today I checked it and;

Muahahahaha.
So much has been going on lately, so I'll allow myself these silly laughs.

*edit*
I realize the ridiculously small font, so in case you didn't check the URL I discretely added in the pic;
I have 91 likes in total, 51 of which come from that one comment on Chapter 35 of "Orange marmalade" on Webtoonlive.
And the comments!  These anonymous persons make me smile.

I realized not for the first time that I am a brat. So many people get fed up with me, and though it scares the hell out of me, it's perfectly understandable.

But there are certain people in my life who are supposed to be loving role models but think of me as a huge, selfish bitch. Everybody's human, but of all people, they should be the last to treat me like shit.  They ought to know me better than anyone else in the world, but they don't because they've forgotten that I'm still a kid.

Whatever. Life gives you shit.  If you can't give shit back, then swallow, quit complaining, and move on right?

Yeah, I'm mostly self-centered, but right now, I'm just writing because my sister is a genius, but nobody will ever know it.

It's tough growing up.

But some things will always cheer you up.

I don't think I say this enough.

I hate life. I hate it I hate it I hate it!

Just kidding. But seriously, I do.  Or rather, I hate myself. Or I hate time.  Or rather, the lack thereof. I swear, it's like, woohoo it's Friday morning I only have 1 class today and then BOOM IT'S ALREADY MONDAY MORNING AND I HAVEN'T DONE ANY OF MY HOMEWORK INCLUDING THE LATE ASSIGNMENTS FROM SPANISH SINCE THURSDAY. OH AND THEN MY DAMN PHYSICS PARTNER SUDDENLY DIDN'T HAVE A RIDE TO COME TO MY HOUSE AND FINISH BUILDING THE TREBUCHET SO IT WAS MY ASS STUCK WITH TRYING TO FIX THE MISTAKES AND OF COURSE I PROCRASTINATED ANYWAY AND ARRGHH I HATE THE WORLD.

And there's other problems.  You know, the kind that all high schoolers face as they realize they're going to have to apply for college soon: where I'm going, what career I want, what I want to major in, if I really care or not.  Sometimes I just want to give everything up for classical piano.  I suck at it, but it's honestly the only thing i feel passionately about besides manga and getting good grades/lots of attention in school.  I'm also in an impossibly insignificant to anyone besides myself quagmire where I can't decide whether to go to school during Summer 2012 or enter a foreign exchange program.

But yeah. Life.

Lately, been reading lots of dark manga.  And pretty manhwa webcomics.  And happy-go-lucky shojo.  It's an odd mix, but I love it.

In the last week or so, I've probably watched Howl's Castle about five times or so using my friend's family's Netflix account (my family's preeetty f*cking cheap).  Everytime, it's like Dayuuuuuumn Howl is hot.

Yeah. I drool at his feet. Dearest, why'd you have to go and pair up with that silver-haired granny with the random British accent? I've got terrible skin, thick legs, and permanent bags under my eyes, but I'd forever be yours!  Unless Aizen suddenly exists! Then I'm afraid I'd have to have both of you :>

I also love Calucifer.  He says the best lines in the film. "Here's another curse: may all your bacon burn."

Yeah. And watching that one movie with Barbra Streisand in it. Funny Girl.  I only like the first half.

Oh, yes, by the way. As I'm typing this I have two to four major assignments I should have done by six o'clock this morning (it's 2:08 a.m.) but instead I'm blogging and watching Howl's Castle (again).  

I suck.

Life sucks.

Life.

Ha! Don't speak to me about life!

"No! What're you doing, you crazy lady with tongs? No, please! Help me! I'm falling!"
Gotta love Calucifer.

OH. That's right. My sister's friend (my classmate) is writing a story (I reluctantly admit she's a pretty good writer, though my pride prevents me from telling it to her face) and my sister is willing to illustrate it. WHICH PISSES ME OFF. That girl is stealing my sister! So I've gotta write something first, before the end of the week.

Why do I add more to my plate?  I don't know, because I don't plan on finishing it on the first place?  Or rather, I plan to, but I don't expect to.  Does that make much sense?  I don't have the energy to check.

"She likes my spark!" :>

Okay, okay.  Homework. Fo reals now, *******. 

******* = nigguhs, btw.  I think about using that term all the time (ghetto in Stockton, yo) but I feel bad actually saying/typing it (white guilt trip. I usually never have those, seeing as they're basically pointless. Like, I'm supposed to feel sorry that some white people had slaves and stuff just because I'm white too?  My white family didn't even come to America until the 1930s, and even then they lived in Montana and Wyoming.)

OKAY I'M GOING! GAWSH LEAVE ME ALONE!

(^___^) Bai.!

*two minutes later*

Oh.... I just found out where I got that "Don't speak to me about life" line! Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galazy!

Right now the movie is at the part where Howl goes emo over his hair.  "I see no point in living if I can't be beautiful." Dra-ma-QUEEN!  His hair is so beautiful when it's black.  And Christian Bale's voice just makes me laugh when Sophie says to go to the King's Palace and Howl goes "Whaaat?!"

Sophie should just get together with Turniphead. HOWL IS MINE! >  3<

Yup. Going. I know. See ya.

Isn't it exhausting?

This blog can just be renamed "The Gradual Loss of the Innocence of Youth".  I don't just mean that in the sense of how I constantly obsess over AizenxIchigo yaoi fanfics.  I mean that as I get older, the lesson of life's unfairness is constantly being reinforced.  I'm not talking about me not getting the prettiest looks, or being born into the richest family, or some whiny little teenage boy that I have a crush on ends up liking someone else, or whatever bad luck I feel like I'm having-- those trivial problems make me want to barf whenever I hear someone complaining about it like it's the end of the world.

What I suppose I'm trying to say is, this world is such a hypocrite.

Why teach us to be objective if you'll only play favorites later?
Why force others to be Christian if you'll only verbally abuse them later?
Why promise us the opportunity of a lifetime if you don't know for sure?
Why claim to be acting in my best interest when you don't even know what you're doing in the first place?

You can't really trust anyone.  Perhaps not even yourself.

But as discontent as I feel right now, I think the lesson most impressed into my brain recently is that my own opinions don't really matter.  At all.  I hate to be a self-hating defeatist, but I know I serve no purpose on this world besides to take up space.  I can feel it wherever I go.

If I never attended the high school I did, my classmates would be able to live just as well as they do now.  Perhaps they'd enjoy themselves more without me there, since most of them seem to find me so intolerable.
If I never went to church, there'd be precious few who'd ever notice my absence.
If I was never born, my family would probably be a lot different.  My mom would still be able to have kids.  And if they never knew I existed, then... everything that was my fault never existed either.

It's tiresome, knowing that anything you have to say won't ever make a difference, nor was it ever meant to.  I'm just... there.  It's like that theme in Haruki Murakami's book after the quake.  I'm empty.  I'm completely devoid of anything.

I take these depressing tales, of books such as After the Quake, The Fourth Treasure, and Crime and Punishment.  Of manga like Kimi no Knife, A Falsified Romance, Masca, and Hana no Namae. I collect terrible, tragic, dark productions and cradle them, cherish them like they were images of the Bible.  I love them because they comfort me, tell me that there is a quiet tranquility, a mute order, in the opposite of what I live for and what I ever hoped to be.

There is beauty in failure, in immorality, in insanity.  It can be something to be envied, to be desired.  The humility in knowing without ever changing the fact: status as the lowest of the low.

Meaningless.  That's what this all is.

Inspired.

I just finished reading Confessions of a Teenage Nomad.

It's not the kind of book that you haven't read before. I mean, come on.  She's always moving, she's never met her father, she never quite fits in.  Typical book for a typical teenager.  But that's okay, because sometimes those types of books are enough.

Despite it's shortcomings, I enjoyed this book.  It had that tone to it, that atmosphere that makes you think that life is always beautiful, even when there's crap splattered all over it.  Like there's an art to the little details of life.  It's almost the same feeling I get when I watch certain animes (like The House of Five Leaves), read manga (Hana no namae comes to mind) and Japanese-themed novels (I'm thinking of The Hotel Iris by Yoko Ogawa and The Fourth Treasure by Todd Shimoda).

It's breath-taking, in a sense.  The way these authors speak is like they're freezing small moments in their life and loving them for what they are.  In a weird Zen Buddhist sense, it's like they are fully aware of themselves.  Which isn't to say that everything is happy, picture-perfect, and structured, but... *sigh*

I don't know how to describe this feeling, and I'm not sure if it's my lack of vocabulary or that there isn't really a word in the English language for it.  Perhaps the Japanese do, since all they always seem to produce that certain effect.  Like the sound of cicadas in an anime.  Or in Honey and Clover whenever they show the characters randomly looking at the moon.  Perhaps it's not a coincidence that the closest analogy I can find to this is when I compare it to Zen Buddhism.

I've been hoping to write more often lately, and not just blogs.  I mean I want to write.  Write poems, stories, all kinds of crap that my loser middle school self used to do and my loser high school self wants to return to.  But with the way life's been turning out lately, I don't know how to put pen to paper without it sounding like a history essay.  Because I'm always either writing for school, or I'm writing about myself in a blog post about how crappy and unfair my life is.

I'm glad I read Confessions of a Teenage Nomad.  It makes me want to write again, even if what I churn out turns out to be crap.

There are some beautiful moments in life you just don't want to forget.

Sleep is the best healer.

Thanks everyone for your concern. Half the time when I freak out about the astronomical crap that appears in my life every so often, I'm also suffering from lack of sleep.  Otherwise I'd keep it to myself instead of writing a blog post about it, you know?

But I took a nap, and I'm feeling better. I feel like I'm six years old; back then, I hated it when my mom made me take naps.  I always said they were a huge waste of time, though I did feel better whenever I took them.

Well, I can't wait to face another day in hell.  Hopefully I won't come home as depressed this time around.

Does it look like I got beat up?

Because that's how I feel. Every single day of my life, when I get bugged my some arbitrary matter that doesn't matter to me-- it never did, and it never will.  I'm sick of going to school and not being able to just learn.  Because my parents are suspicious of the teachers and write embarrassingly stupid letters so that everybody gives you strange looks. Because the administration doesn't do it's job and then tries to hide it with shameless lies. Because some students steal, lie, and cheat but get away with it and you have to see them every single day, like a knife that's slowly being pushed deeper into your lungs.

I can't breathe anymore.  I'm sick of putting my hope in people, their fake smiles, and their false promises.

I realized today that I don't really matter, that I'm just an excuse to start a fire, so I've made a resolution that I hope to stick to this school year: I'll let you make me the fire to burn down the remnants of something great.  I'll let you tarnish my name as you claim to act in my interest, or whatever.  And meanwhile, while everyone battles it out, I'll just keep living my life like always.  Going to class because I like the material.  Talking to the one or two friends I care about.  Writing depressing stories I'll never finish.  Eating lunch by myself.  Always reading manga or doing homework.

Doesn't anyone get why I wanted to ride my bike to school this year?

We're puppets, you and I.

Unni love.

It's a little embarrassing to admit, but sometimes I really miss my sister.  Only once or twice during the school week do we have time to actually sit together, eat, and talk about our day.  There have been quite a few times when I'm on Delta campus when I see something, turn to my left to tell Becca, and then realize she's not there with me.

I have an older sister complex, it's true. But Unni is so awesome, and she's the one person that I can talk to and not feel like I have to carefully choose my words lest that person think I'm a b*tch or something.  And we don't have to explain things to each other, like how we feel about something. Because we already damn know!

Anyways, I cheerfully spent last night chattering away with Unni, talking about virtually everything that's happened this last week until about six in the morning.  I feel so utterly childish at being so happy to just sleep next to her, like how my seven year old self was happy to sleep next to my mom when she first made me sleep by myself.  (And before you gutter-stuck pervs say anything: IT'S NOT LIKE THAT!) It's always the little things.

When Unni reads this post, she's going to roll her eyes and call me a dweeb.
[OwO]   <  ♥! )

Well, that said we did positively nothing today except talk, eat, watch an episode of Sherlock Holmes, and I read manga.  We were supposed to meet up with a friend, but there were guests at the house and our parents were talking to them about something I really don't want to blog about, much less approach my father while he's talking about it, so I couldn't go today. Perhaps tomorrow, because I really need to get out of this house.

This is a failed attempt to make myself look cool and full of awesomeness.  I succeeded in making myself look like a dork who really needs to get her eyebrows done. And stop taking pictures of herself when she's bored and doesn't want to finish her homework.

On the bright side, my cold is almost completely gone! I got a light sentence this time around, thank goodness. I can't afford to lose any school this year.

In a minute or so, I'm going to get up and actually do something! Reading corny manga like Cyboy always motivates me to want to be a positive person who has problems but can get past them.  Since, you know, I'm a super negative, insecure teenybopper who has problems, can't get past them, and in turn creates more problems.

Yeah, okay. Roll your eyes, it's all right.  I'm being a really retarded high schooler, self-centered and totally talking about things that don't matter. I hate that part of myself too, and I just know that when I get older, I'll look back at these blog posts and rip my hair out with embarrassment. "Why?! Why did I say something SOOO embarrassing?!?! And online too!!! NOOOOOOO." But you know what? I'm fifteen. I'm allowed to be stupid sometimes.

I will regret saying that someday, I'm sure.

Sick-like

Sore limbs.

Plugged ears.

The AC is too cold.

No food in the kitchen.

Lukewarm green tea.

Short on Tylenol.

Yes, I caught a cold.  The worst part is the stuffy nose. I can't breathe through it at all. My plugged ears are a close second, tied with the massive headaches that plague me continuously.

I hate this.

But on the bright side, I love the shorts I'm wearing. They look like a skirt, and they're really comfortable.

It's a bug's life.

We live near a creek so there are lots of little critters in the neighborhood.  The bushes in our front yard had 13 huge spiders with cobwebs that spanned from roof to cement. They were very troublesome -___-

My parents keep forgetting to close the doors, so there are many flies as well. Fortunately, I keep my bedroom door closed most of the time, so my room is critter-free.  However, I found this little bugger on my wall a week ago:

And then I found him dead in my closet a few days later. Yes, this is the same moth I talked about in this blog post, but this is a much better and cooler picture of him.  Despite the fact that blogger keeps turning the picture 90 degrees to the right and so you're seeing it sideways...

Anyway, last night I found out that a black widow has created it's web across my bedroom window.

As much as this creeps the hell out of me, I'm actually extremely grateful.  Before this bugger came along, all these moths and other light-attracted flying thingies kept flinging themselves at my windows to get to my lamp.  And now the window is peacefully clear at night... with the exception of that spider. o_____o

Just when you start to think life is good...

Something comes along to fuck up your mood.

Ironically, after tonight's episode of family drama, what comes to mind is my English teacher's metaphor. "What's the plate that the chicken comes on," she asks?

It doesn't come on a plate at all. It's thrown smack right into your face.

Despite my previous bad encounters involving my immediate family, it seems I still haven't learned that in this world, there ain't no one who cares about you but yourself.  Not even your family.  It's a dog eat dog world.

Anyway, I've been doing nothing but listening to my Pandora songs lately; the Morning Benders come up quite often.  So often, that every time a song comes up, I actually hear the lyrics and think, "Wow, that's deep."

Excerpt from "Cross-eyed" by the Morning Benders 

we keep handing out our gifts
a gilded age keeps our hearts stiff
and apart
but what about our flesh and blood?
the product of our young love
is here to stay
a crosseyed mess led me from the flames into the dark
our empty promises keep us from bearing our hearts
but somewhere inside me there's a jealous mind
and i want it out of my head!!
i want it out of my head!!!!!

Simple, but profound. Today, I said to my friend of the song "Waiting for a War": "It's like a... I dunno, deep but logical commentary on society today, I guess."

Yeah, I'm way in over my head.

Small, Insignificant Details from this last week

The creek behind my house.  Pretty water lilies, but stinks as hell.

Found this critter on my wall a few days ago.
Found him again dead on the carpet this morning.

The unfinished water bottles have accumulated on my window sill.

My horoscope for today:

You have a great idea about what you want to do today, but your preferences are limited by practical considerations that prevent you from getting exactly what you want. Instead of feeling disappointed if reality falls short of your expectations, look for the undiscovered opportunities that come along with the unexpected changes. There are more options than you can imagine if you only remain open to them.

Huh.